


Wahsontí:io

by orphan_account



Category: Assassin's Creed
Genre: Established Relationship, Father/Son Incest, Fluff, Incest, M/M, Parent/Child Incest, how did i manage to write fluff for these two
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-10-13
Packaged: 2018-02-18 23:50:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2366534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dedicated to brokibrodinson, because she's my inspiration. :) ♥</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [brokibrodinson](https://archiveofourown.org/users/brokibrodinson/gifts).



Connor knew that returning home at this ungodly hour, _through the window_ no less, would not keep him in his father's good graces, yet he could not bring himself to care. He was hot, tired and quite miserable after an unsuccessful mission that he had been on for almost three weeks. Haytham's fury at Connor's 'completely uncivilized manner of entering a house' would only be welcome in a way he had never thought it would be before. He had to admit he had been feeling homesick for the last week and even found himself missing the older man's presence.

Summer was in full swing and the weather was uncharacteristically hot for the colonies and Connor was looking forward to shedding his assassin robes. He slipped through the open window as silently as he could into Haytham's bedroom, mentally preparing himself for the inevitable 'what the bloody hell are you doing'. He smiled briefly to himself, thinking that the voice In his head sounded suspiciously like his father. Haytham was usually a light sleeper, unless he was really tired, and therefore able to be alert at a moment's notice. This time, however, Connor's entrance was greeted only by the Templar's soft inhales and exhales.

He waited until his sight adjusted and then looked over at the sleeping man, warmth blossoming in his chest at the sight. He had missed Haytham and while they still bickered and could not trust each other completely just yet, the illicit shift in their relationship softened the sharp edges and made Connor secretly quite sentimental. Squashing the thought and forcing his eyes from his father's relaxed face devoid of any of its usual condescension, he stripped down to only his breeches, draping his assassin robes over a chair.

Releasing a soft sigh, Connor carefully climbed into the bed behind his father, the sheets pleasantly cool against his skin. He turned on his side and spooned against Haytham's back, slipping his arm around the man's waist. He breathed in his father's familiar scent in greedy inhales, nearly shivering at the joy he felt as he nuzzled against the bare skin of Haytham's shoulder. Pressing a kiss against the spot, he settled in comfortably and let his eyes close.

He was hovering in the pleasant place between sleep and wakefulness when he felt movement as his father turned in his embrace. Connor's eyes flew open and watched, holding his breath as he waited for Haytham to settle down. Instead, a pair of grey eyes blinked up at him sleepily, and he could not suppress the small smile that stretched the corners of his mouth.

Haytham did not seem cross, so Connor relaxed into the mattress, unconsciously rubbing small circles with his thumb on the man's hip. He closed his eyes, only to open them again when he felt his father's soft exhales against his face and dry, warm lips against his. The kiss lacked any finesse but considering Haytham's tiredness he was not even surprised; instead he felt rather pleased. Their kiss was quite chaste, a lazy and languid rub of their lips that ended with two simultaneous exhales of contentment.

Connor watched, slightly amused, as Haytham managed to push him onto his back, curling himself against his son's side with a sigh, one arm wrapped possessively around the Assassin's torso and head pressed in the crook of his neck.

"Next time use the door." Connor felt rather than heard the Templar's mumble and despite himself he grinned, eventually lulled into sleep by his father's soft breaths against his skin and the thought that perhaps he was not the only sentimental one.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Same universe as the first chapter, sometime later down the road. :)

There were worse ways to spend an evening, Haytham surmised as he sat back in his chair, taking a sip of his ale and looking around the room. How he agreed to this he could not recall; he could only remember long clever fingers, a wicked mouth and a murmured consent against warm lips in his post-orgasmic bliss. It certainly had nothing to do with his growing fondness for his son, he told himself. Besides, it was only fair since he had dragged Connor several times to a few covert missions at various gatherings.

Tonight none of the people glowed angry red when he switched to his Eagle vision, only a pleasant calming blue. And there in the middle stood Connor, enclosed in a darker blue aura. Every time Haytham looked at him thus, his heart skipped a beat. Sure, they were not allied completely and still could not trust each other entirely, but they were on the right path. Their relationship was complicated even without the incestuous part of things but for the first time in a long time, Haytham felt optimistic; eager even. 

As a young lad he had hoped to unite the Templars and Assassins but grew too jaded and in the end thought it a foolish and naive endeavour. Now with his son sharing the same hopes, he felt that together they could achieve what he had once dreamt of. Ever since Charles' death (which he thought was rather unnecessary and his resentment wasn't gone entirely yet) they had started to take baby steps to unite the two Orders. Haytham was not naive enough to think he would live to see the end of this ancient war; they still bickered and argued as before, trying to make the other see their perspective; a few concessions had to be made to make sure both parties were satisfied.

He shook himself from his thoughts and again looked around The Mile's End Inn, where the Homesteaders were celebrating the Independence Day. He was not one for festivities, so he just hang around in the back of the room. Despite having been introduced to everyone months ago, he was wary of talking with the Homesteaders, specifically for the reason that they were important to his son and he would hate to alienate them in any way. Had it really been so long since he had exchanged words with someone not involved in the Templar or Assassin schemes? He supposed so.

He let his thoughts go, settled back in his chair and let his eyes wander around, ultimately coming to rest on Connor, who was listening to the conversation between Terry and Godfrey. The two lumberjacks were talking animatedly in their Scottish accents, their hands flailing drunkenly around them, no doubt recalling their most recent adventures. Haytham froze in his chair when he heard a laugh; of course it was nothing unusual to hear a laugh during a celebration but this was different.

It came from Connor.

Haytham watched, fascinated, as his son expressed his mirth. It was most unusual to hear him like this; the Templar knew his son was not one to smile very often and could not blame him. To hear him laugh so openly, without restraint did something strange to Haytham's insides. No doubt his son was very handsome but his genuine smile lit up his whole normally solemn countenance, his eyes shining with a warm spark. Connor's smile was wide and showed perfect teeth, creating a tiny dimple in his cheek. It was a sight to behold.

Haytham had been on the receiving end of Connor's tiny genuine quirk of lips a handful of times in the recent months; he had to conclude it was nice. Maybe his son would learn to smile again. When had he himself last smiled? Haytham could not remember. His life was not a happy one but for Connor he would try to see the positive side again. His gaze was still locked on his son as the Assassin turned his head towards him; his smile never faltered as their eyes met and Haytham forgot to breathe for a couple of seconds.

_Beautiful._

The realization hit him like a punch in the gut and stole his breath away. He was in love with his son. Haytham was never one to ponder much about complicated things like _feelings_ , instead preferring to just take them into consideration and move along with his life. In this instance maybe he had known for a while but was still surprised how easily Connor snuck past his defenses. Haytham was not going to suddenly wax poetic or anything of the sort; he would simply accept the fact and let Connor know of his feelings in his usual subtle way.

As it was, said person was making his way over to him, with that damn dimple still visible on his face as he smiled. Haytham froze; surely his son would not be able to tell what he just now realized? Swallowing down his panic, he calmly regarded the lad as he neared his table.

"Are you enjoying the festivities, father?" 

"I am." He felt a smile tug on the corner of his lips; it was not a lie, he was enjoying it in his own way without being a direct participant.

"The people are curious about you." At Haytham's raised eyebrow, Connor continued. "They would like to get to know you better. You're my father after all."

"Perhaps. Though not tonight; I would prefer if they remembered tomorrow what I told them." He eyed several of the inebriated men around the Inn with faint amusement.

"Very true." Haytham watched as the corners of his son's eyes crinkled with amusement when he followed his gaze, his smile stretching a bit more. It was sort of adorable but Haytham would not admit that even under the threat of death.

They had left the festivities not long after, taking a walk up the hill towards the mansion in companionable silence. When Connor's bedroom door closed behind them, the Assassin pounced and captured his father's lips in a demanding, biting kiss as he backed them towards the bed. Resisting the urge to moan, Haytham felt himself being pulled on top of his son. Well, he could hardly complain.

The Templar easily took control of the kiss, urging himself to slow down and indulge in gentle kisses, letting some of his newfound affection bleed through. By the look on Connor's face when he pulled back, he could tell his son did not mind this change of pace and he swooped down to claim his mouth once again.

Afterwards they lay entwined, naked and feeling boneless under the covers. He was almost dozing off when he heard Connor mumble sleepily two words in his native tongue.

"Konnorónhkwa, raké:ni."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Third chapter coming soon! :)


	3. Chapter 3

It wasn't until later that week that Haytham learned the meaning of Connor's words. He had known what Raké:ni meant but the other half of the sentence eluded him until now. He did not want to ask Connor because the Assassin had thought him asleep when he murmured the words.

They were visiting the new land of the Kanien'kehá:ka tribe to see if their plans were being carried out. Haytham and Connor joined forces to protect the land, since his people were more or less exiled from their previous settlement Kanatahséton. While Haytham was not exactly friendly with the people (yet he was not their enemy either) because of his dalliance with Ziio so long ago, he felt somewhat responsible for protecting the clan. He owed that both to her and their son.

It was a sunny day when they arrived and after a few stiff hellos, he decided to stay outside of the longhouse while Connor went inside to talk with Oiá:ner. The other natives were eyeing him curiously; they knew who he was but they didn't make any move in approaching him. Just as well, he was not really in the mood to talk with anyone besides Connor. He fiddled with his horse's reins and pushed a small rock around with his boot. 

A few minutes passed until he felt a small tug on his cape and he looked down into large brown eyes of a tiny native girl who could be no more than 5 or 6 years old. Two braids of black hair sat on her shoulders adorned with a few small feathers, much like Connor's. A wide smile stretched across her freckled face, and he noticed a few of her baby teeth already missing. She was a cute little thing and Haytham had a hard time concealing a grin.

"Mister, mister, will you show me your horse, please?" Unaccustomed to dealing with children, Haytham panicked internally and searched for the girl's parents around him. His eyes caught a native woman standing not too far away, watching him. She smiled and gave him a small nod. Turning his eyes back to the small girl, he cleared his throat.

"What is your name?"

"Rashmi. It means ray of light." She grinned up at him again. "What is your name, mister?"

"I'm Haytham. Very nice to meet you, Rashmi." He was at a loss on what to do next, but the little girl took the matter into her own hands.

"Does your horse have a name?"

"No, I never thought to give her a name." Rashmi glanced up thoughtfully at his dark brown horse.

"She looks like Sohni to me. It means beautiful." At that point he received a bump to his should by the horse. Amused, he smiled at Rashmi.

"A fitting name, thank you. It seems she likes it. Would you like to sit in the saddle?" 

"Oh, yes please, mister!" She exclaimed gleefully and he paused, contemplating the little girl. Now that he had made a friend of sorts, maybe she could help him solve the puzzle.

"But you have to teach me some of your language in return." She nodded eagerly and raised her arms up. He picked her up with ease, placing her in the saddle and keeping a hand wrapped around her ankle. The last thing he needed was Rashmi injuring herself and her parents wanting to kill him. She giggled and squealed as she patted the horse, threading her small fingers in the thick black mane. Haytham briefly wondered if Connor had been this carefree and excitable when he was Rashmi's age and before his mother died. One day he would ask, when the time was right.

"What would you like to learn, mister?" She regarded him curiously but with the same toothy grin as before. Haytham opened his mouth and then closed it again as a thought crossed his mind; surely Connor had not used a profanity a few days ago? At least Haytham hoped not; if it were a profane word, the child most likely would not know it. He took a deep breath.

"I have recently overheard a Mohawk word, or phrase I suppose. Konorkwa." Rashmi started to laugh; the Templar was pretty sure he was butchering the language but he tried his best.

"Your pronunciation is funny, mister. I think you mean konnorónhkwa." Haytham perked up as she repeated the exact same word his son had whispered to him earlier. "In your language it means 'I love you'." She beamed at him, happy that she could teach someone something new. 

Meanwhile, Haytham froze on the spot, not sure whether he was breathing or not. And of course his son chose that very moment to walk outside of the longhouse, ending his conversation with the clan mother and telling his goodbyes. Haytham simply nodded at the older woman and she regarded him for a moment before she offered a small smile and repeated the gesture.

Connor approached his father with a quizzical look on his face; Haytham just shrugged before swallowing heavily and finding his voice again.

"Rashmi just wanted to look at the horse." Ignoring his son's curious look, he lifted the child from the saddle and set her back on the ground. "It was very nice to meet you, Rashmi." He patted her head somewhat awkwardly but the girl merely smiled at him.

"Goodbye, mister Haytham. O:nen, Rathonhnhaké:ton." She went to embrace Connor's leg before she skipped away back to her mother. Haytham could feel Connor's eyes on him, so he turned around.

"What?" He asked somewhat exasperated at his son's faintly disbelieving look. 

"Nothing." The lad had the audacity to give him a cheeky grin. Haytham just shook his head as they mounted their horses and set off on a long trip back home.

* * *

The journey was more or less spent in companionable silence, which Haytham appreciated. He was still trying to come to terms with Connor's affections towards him and he wondered if the little girl was simply making fun of him and telling him the first thing that came to mind. But no, Haytham refused to be so cynical and for once trusted the child's claim. What should he do with this newfound knowledge? Should he do anything, say anything? However, for the moment he remained silent, certain that a suitable opportunity would present itself.

Much later, when they were both back at the homestead in bed tired from the long trip, Connor a familiar comfortable weight curled against his side, he felt that it was a good opportunity. The night was peaceful and quiet and nothing else seemed to matter. Haytham swallowed his uncertainty; sentimentality was going to be the death of him.

"Rathonhnhaké:ton?" He had known his son's real name ever since they made peace and thus the name came easily to his tongue. He did not use it often, simply because of convenience, but Connor seemed to relish when Haytham called him such, even more so when it was moaned in throes of pleasure. This time Connor acknowledged him only with a soft 'hmm?', giving an affectionate nuzzle to the crook of his father's neck.

"Konnorónhkwa." He was sure his pronunciation was not quite right but he felt Connor become deathly still and he was sure the lad ceased breathing momentarily as well. He glanced down only to meet the ever honest eyes of his son, wariness and hope reflecting in the brown orbs. "I know what it means." He said carefully, trying to dispel the doubt on Connor's face. Things like pronunciation stopped to matter once he suddenly found himself with an armful of Assassin and his lips captured quite thoroughly. He kissed back with equal fervour and when Connor pulled back to breathe, his cheeks were rosy and lips slightly swollen.

All tiredness was gone from their eyes as they looked at each other before Haytham rolled them over, dipping down to initiate a kiss of his own. There was a moan and Haytham could not suppress a shiver when Connor whispered the phrase again, this time in English. When he drew back, Connor was smiling at him and momentarily he wondered how that smile would taste like on his lips. He could not resist any longer, claiming Connor's lips in a rather possessive kiss.

Just as he thought - wonderful.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> O:nen = goodbye

**Author's Note:**

> Wahsontí:io = It's a nice night


End file.
